Page 56 of Since We're Here
He turns to me, and desire radiates off him like steam from a hot spring.
I press my lips to his and pull the phone from his hand, tossing it on the couch. Pulling back for a second, I meet his eyes, my pounding heart like a drumbeat.
Patrick lets out a shaky breath, and I can see the strength of his objections weakening as I press our foreheads together.
“Or more than kiss?”
I slide a leg over his lap and straddle him, hovering above his pelvis.
“Feck, Madison.” He practically growls at me.
And so I drop down onto his waist, letting the weight of me settle slowly on his hard cock, separated only by my thin underwear and his boxers. “You said you don’t want to.”
“First of all, I didn’t say that.”
“Do you want me to stop? Because if you say so, I will.” I shift my body against his and press down on the source of my ache. An involuntary moan escapes my mouth.
“I think I said I shouldn’t. I definitely didn’t say I don’t want to.” He looks into my eyes as he gently thrusts up. I whimper. As a response, Patrick slides his hands on my ass, pulling down my underwear until it’s bunched at the top of my thighs and his hands are massaging bare skin, pressing me down against him, rocking me back and forth. I throw my head back and he buries his face in my chest, removing one hand from my ass to pushdown my tank so he can get his lips on my nipple, sucking and licking while his rock-hard cock pushes up against my soaking wet underwear.
I moan. “What’s the second of all?”
“Huh?” He lets go of my nipple.
“You said first of all. What’s second?”
“Feck if I know.”
“Here’s what I think.” I sit up straight and try to stop moving for a second.
His eyes are closed.
“Look at me,” I demand, and Patrick’s eyes spring open.
“I’m looking. I’m listening.”
“Why don’t we do this just once. To get it out of our system.”
“Sounds like an awful idea.” But he continues to gently move under me, making it hard for me to form cohesive thoughts.
“But if we don’t, all I’m going to do is think about it. I won’t be able to concentrate. It’ll be so distracting. I need to plan the road trip. You need to focus on the brewery.”
“You can be quite convincing.” Patrick leans forward and plants a series of small kisses on my neck.
“Great. So we’re doing this.” Before I can lose my nerve, I lift my hands and yank off my tank top.
Patrick’s mouth gapes open, and he looks up at me.
“Christ, Maddie. You are perfect.” He stares at my breasts and cups them with his hands, leaning forward to wrap his lips around a nipple again.
I tug at the hem of his shirt. “Sure, now take this off.”
He pulls off his shirt and I shamelessly ogle him. His chest is incredible. He was a professional athlete. He doesn’t sit around on a couch all day. But still, the man should pose shirtless for February of some calendar. His hands roam my sides and my breasts, and I can barely focus on what’s in front of me. I touchhis chest, at the artwork carved there, hidden completely when he wears a shirt.
There’s an intricate dragon with outstretched wings, ending right under each pectoral muscle. It’s fierce and angry. I look up at him questioningly.
“Ah, yeah, it was about me being a beast in goal. I got it fifteen years ago.”
“It’s huge. Did it hurt?” I trace the outline of the dragon and his flesh twitches under my touch.
